


Drip-drop

by silvaaeterna



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvaaeterna/pseuds/silvaaeterna
Summary: It’s raining, and L is making coffee.





	Drip-drop

 

It's been raining for days.

He has a million better things to do than make coffee, as Watari would say, but once in a while it’s nice to do things himself.

On a slow, grey day, especially.

It’s calming, meditative almost. The hissing and bubbling of the kettle, the dry grounds turning wet and black, the aromatic steam rising from the little ceramic vessel, the boiled water pouring in slow circles over the coffee grounds, the satisfying cleanness as it washes down the wet grounds stuck to the sides of the filter with each pass...

Often he would become lost in thought and pour too much water, making a mess for Watari to clean up. Still, it’s nice.

And today there is the added rush of rain and soft wind, like a constant humming in the background, punctuated by the random taps of the drops that hit the kitchen window. He watches them hit, resisting the compulsion to count them, while the coffee dribbles through the filter to plop into his cup.

An insect carcass is caught by the wing on the window screen. It blows back and forth in the breeze in a gentle postmortem dance.

Somewhere far, far below and far, far away, there are trees. He imagines the rain plucking at the leaves and dripping off, perhaps making an uneven rhythm. The trees in England did so in the rain, and surely the ones here can’t be that different. That's the sight he'd like to see.

In reality he can see from here only dirty rain leaking down the sides of office towers, leaving dark streaks on the concrete. Like tearstains, almost, if those buildings weren't so lifeless and cold.

There is no such thing as a purifying rain, not here. This rain won’t make the world clean. It can only make the grey and bleak stand out, and the return of light more painful.

_Light-kun._ An affectionate moniker between friends who aren’t friends and hardly know what affection is.

The rain still falls. Some things grow, some things rot. Some things drink, some things drown. The rain still falls, and doesn’t care, doesn’t have the capacity to care.

The world can be disturbingly simple sometimes.

He supposes that’s how Kira was born.

L is alien here. His world is one he’s sought to complicate, one zoomed in over and over until he can see all the smallest machinations. Everything ultimately becomes predictable and sensible there, once the surface layers are peeled away. It’s comfortable in his world, with his endless shades of nuance to protect him.

Not like this world. This one is stark black and white from surface to bone. His fingers are always looking for layers to peel and grasping at nothing.

In his world, the rain always came down in easy puddles that he liked to splash in.

This rain is trying to drown him, and the dorsal fins get closer in the more that he begs.

The forgotten coffee is overflowing. His cup sits in a brown puddle. Little brown teardrops trail up his white shirt as it rises to his mouth. The coffee is warm and bitter. He’s forgotten the sugar. He can’t find the capacity to care.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble to try and capture L’s voice, for reasons. (Possibly reasons pertaining to a long-abandoned fic on FFnet. :P) But I like how it turned out, so here we are.
> 
> There's a reference to an Andrew Luckless lyric toward the end, but I doubt anyone would notice. I'm pretty sure I'm the only fangirl he's got..
> 
> Also, writing in present tense is a pain. I have to monitor myself an awful lot to not mess it up. But I do really like the effect it creates, especially for shorter things like this, and I spent sooo much time editing “Hands of the Beholder” that the style’s become ingrained... why do I do this to myself? XD


End file.
